


The Other Face of Hope

by straightforwardly



Category: Fire Emblem: Kakusei | Fire Emblem: Awakening
Genre: Alternate Timelines, Gen, Return of Someone Thought Dead, Siblings, Siblings on Opposite Sides of a Battlefield
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-14
Updated: 2020-02-14
Packaged: 2021-02-22 05:07:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,789
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22710250
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/straightforwardly/pseuds/straightforwardly
Summary: Lucina had never known what had happened to Morgan. She’d assumed that he was dead.But now here he was, alive.Alive, and summoning Risen for Grima’s cause.
Relationships: Lucina & Marc | Morgan
Kudos: 30
Collections: Chocolate Box - Round 5





	The Other Face of Hope

**Author's Note:**

  * For [snowysatoru](https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowysatoru/gifts).



> This is not meant to be the Future Past timeline, but I did draw inspiration for Morgan's characterization from the [Future Past I](https://fireemblem.fandom.com/wiki/The_Future_Past_1/Script) script.

They’d nearly made it. Bloody, bruised, and exhausted, they’d beaten down the horde of Risen blocking their way, and now the place where the Outrealm Gate would open was just over the hill. The end—the beginning, really—was in sight. 

That hope flickered with an overwhelming flash of bright, white light. When the light cleared, a robed, hooded figure stood on the crest of the hill. For one awful moment, Lucina thought Grima had come to take to take care of them personally. But no—though the robes they wore were similar, the figure was noticeably slighter than Grima.

That didn’t mean that they, whoever they were, weren’t dangerous in their own right. Shoving away the weariness weighing her down, Lucina steadied her stance, tightening her grip on Falchion’s hilt as she held the blade out before her. 

The figure waved their hand, and the earth shifted and cracked. More Risen began to crawl out from the ground. It was a smaller group than the one they’d just taken down, but that brought little comfort. All of them were nearing their limit—if they, in their exhaustion, misstepped, a small force would take them out as easily as a large one. 

Lucina spared a look for her friends, arrayed around her—the friends she’d brought to this place. They looked back at her: pale and exhausted, equal parts determined and despairing. But when Lucina gave the signal, they surged forward as one. 

This was the only chance they had left. They had to make it count. 

Then the robed figure lifted their hands and lowered their hood.

Lucina’s blood ran cold. 

From atop the hill, Morgan looked back at her. It had been years since she’d last seen her brother—not since before Grima had killed their father and taken their mother’s face—but she could never mistaken him for another. Time had melted some of the baby fat from his face, and he’d grown a little taller, but he was still Morgan. 

She’d never known what had happened to him. She’d assumed that he was dead.

But now here he was, alive. 

Alive, and summoning Risen for Grima’s cause. 

“Morgan!” she shouted, furious and grieving and relieved all at once. From the corner of her eye, she saw Owain’s body jerk, distracted by the sound of that familiar name. Lucina swung her sword, cutting down one of the Risen in a single slice, and cried out, “What are you doing!?”

“I could ask you the same thing.” Morgan’s voice was lower than she remembered, no longer carrying the soft, higher tones of childhood. 

With a gesture, the Risen separating them moved to the side, clearing a path towards him. Lucina strode forward into the gap without hesitation, Falchion at the ready. When some of her friends, including Owain, tried to follow, the Risen moved back into place to block them, the air ringing with the sound of clashing steel. 

Morgan drew his sword. Lucina reacted on instinct, blocking his blow. Her heart clenched, but she didn’t let that hold her back as they began to fight. 

“Tell me!” she demanded between each clash of their blades. “What _happened_ to you? How could you throw your lot in with Grima!?”

His eyes flashed. He leapt back, his robes fluttering away to reveal the tome equipped to the other side of his belt just as he sent a flurry of Arcfire after her. Lucina dodged, and as she did, Morgan’s voice carried through the air after her. 

“No, Lucina, _you_ tell _me_. You tell me why you’re fighting so hard against our mother’s will!”

“ _Our_ —” Lucina cut herself off. The pieces clicked into place. Their mother. Of course. Of _course_. Half-shadowed memories of their childhood rose to the fore, reminding her of what she had forgotten. Morgan had adored their mother. Just as Lucina had spent her time glued to their father’s side, fascinated by his swordplay, Morgan had always hovered at their mother’s desk every moment he could, and spent his time trying to become more like her when he couldn’t. 

How often had she come across him curled up in a corner somewhere, his head buried in a thick strategy manual he’d managed to beg off of their mother?

She took in the way he was dressed, the weapons he carried. It was no wonder that she’d mistaken him for Grima, however briefly. He’d carried that adoration for her into adulthood, transforming himself into a mirror of what their mother had been. 

But—

“Grima is not our mother,” Lucina said. Morgan had switched back to using his sword; once more, their blades clanged against one another. 

Something else flashed through his eyes at her words—an echo of a familiar grief. “She’s what’s left of her.”

Around them, the number of Risen were lessening. Behind Morgan, glimmers of light started to gather as the portal Naga had promised them began to form. Morgan made a frustrated sound and lifted his hand, clearly about to summon a new round of Risen. Lucina attacked him before he could, forcing him to focus on defending instead. 

“Lucina!” Severa called out to her. “The portal!”

Lucina gritted her teeth. _I know_ , she thought. Without turning her head, she shouted, “Go on ahead first!”

“ _What_!”

“I said go! I’ll bring up the rear!”

The portal had nearly reached its full size. Some were clearly more reluctant than others, but in the end, aware of how little time remained, they all obeyed. As they passed by him, Morgan tried to lash out at them with another round of Arcfire, but Lucina blocked it with her sword. She pressed down on him in a furious assault, refusing to give him so much as a breath’s worth of pause. 

“The only thing Grima is, is the murderer of our family. But if we go through that portal, we can undo that—undo all the terrible things that have happened to this world! Mother and Father will be alive again! Don’t you want that too? You should be coming to our aid, not hindering us!”

Her words had struck a chord; they were close enough that she could see the split-second of hesitation flash through his eyes. But then he rallied, shouting, “I won’t betray Master Grima!”

“Lucina!”

It was Inigo, this time. As she looked over Morgan’s shoulder, she could see that most of them had already passed through the portal—Inigo and Owain were the last who still remained. There wasn’t much time left; Naga had only been able to promise them so much, and already those few minutes were beginning to come to an end. 

Lucina knocked Morgan back, trying to move past him—but he recovered quickly, planting himself in her way with a thrust of his sword. She had to leap back to avoid it, playing her further away from the portal. She tried again to pass him, and again Morgan blocked her.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Inigo and Owain move to aid her. Dodging another one of Morgan’s strikes, she shouted, “Don’t bother! Go on ahead, before it’s too late!”

Owain started, “We can’t—” 

She cut him off. “You have to! All of this will have been useless if we fail in our task. That means that as many of us as possible need to make it through that portal to make sure that doesn’t happen. So go!”

Inigo and Owain exchanged looks. Then Inigo was moving, diving through the portal. Owain lingered a moment longer, giving her and Morgan one last, long look. Then he was gone too, the shrinking edges of the portal licking at his heels as he went on through. 

Lucina tried one more time to go after them, but had to step back as the air before her erupted into a wall of flame. 

When the fire faded, the portal was gone.

A sudden stillness fell over them. None of the Risen remained: it was just the two of them, standing there alone upon the hilltop. 

Lucina lowered her sword. Opposite her, Morgan did the same. 

Lucina couldn’t say what she felt. She’d been prepared to go back to the past alone if that was what it took to do what needed to be done, but now—now, she’d become the one who was left behind. 

She didn’t regret her choice to tell the others to go on ahead, but it did feel strange. The sense of purpose driving her forward had been ripped away, leaving her feeling strangely adrift.

“I failed.” Morgan’s anger at her seemed to have fizzled out, leaving a flat sort of numbness in its wake as he added, “Master Grima won’t be happy about that.”

His gaze was fixed on the spot where the portal had been. 

His words jarred something inside of Lucina. She exhaled, that brief flash of uncertainty fading as a familiar determination settled into her bones. Of course. She might no longer be able to go change the past as she’d planned, but that didn’t mean that she no longer had a purpose in this world.

Her brother was still here. Now that she knew he was alive… 

“You don’t have to go back to Grima,” she said. “Come with me. I don’t know what will happen to this timeline now, but until then, I’ll—”

Morgan shook his head. “I won’t abandon our mother.” 

He raised his sword. Lucina immediately shifted her stance, on guard, but unexpectedly, Morgan didn’t attack, and instead began to back away. 

“But you should go. Before Master Grima figures out that you’re still here. I…” He looked away. “I don’t want to watch her hurt you, either.”

“Morgan—”

Too late, Lucina realized what he was doing. She rushed forward, but before she could reach him, that white light enveloped him, teleporting him away. 

He was gone. Lucina stared at the place where Morgan had been, her knuckles turning white from the strength of her grip on Falchion’s hilt. Squeezing her eyes shut, she forced herself to calm down. 

Morgan had been right about one thing. She couldn’t be caught by Grima here. Not if she wanted to survive to fight on another day. Not if she wanted to defeat Grima one day—not if she wanted to get Morgan back. 

And she was going to get Morgan back. She had to. For the memory of their parents, for Morgan—and for herself, too. 

This wasn’t the end. She didn’t know if her ending would come with the fading of this timeline or with her last breath, but until that moment came, she refused to give up. 

And so, Falchion in hand, Lucina began to move forward.


End file.
